I Believe in Faeries
by Blue Moon3
Summary: When a water fairy escapes from the DADA class, Ron and Hermione both have their wishes granted - but not in the way they had hoped!
1. Prologue

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Disclaimer: The characters and locations within this story come from the mind of J.K. Rowling, and belong to her and her various publishers. I make no money from these stories. There are also influence from Black Adder and Red Dwarf – probably others, too. They're not mine either. Just the plot. If you want to archive, just send me an e-mail!

Dedication: To my boyfriend, Chris, for making me wonder what it would be like to switch bodies with him for a week!

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I Believe in Faeries - Prologue

"Please, Hermione," Draco's hot breath smoothed its way across her throat as he spoke. 

"No!" She pushed him away, breathing heavily.

He stood about a foot away from her, white shirt un-tucked from his black jeans and hair looking handsomely scruffy. "I just don't understand you! You were all over me a moment ago."

Hermione sat up straight on the Potions desk and smoothed her hair back from her face. "I just don't see what the rush is," she said quietly, "And I was not 'all over you'."

Draco's eyes slid to the door and he shrugged nonchalantly. "Whatever, Hermione. When you're ready to grow up a bit, send me an owl." He strode purposely to the door without looking back at her.

The head girl's jaw dropped. "_Me_ grow up?" She said to the slammed door. She let out a grunt of frustration as she slid off the desk and adjusted her clothing into a style suitable to her position. "Honestly, he's the one that won't tell anyone about us because of some stupid house rivalry," she mumbled indignantly. "I just wish I could understand men, I really do."

*** 

"Lavendar, come out! Please? You know I didn't mean it that way." Ron thought he must look rather stupid, stood in the middle of the Gryffindor dormitory corridor shouting at a door.

"I don't know any such thing," the door shouted back, "Why would you say it if you didn't mean it?"

Ron raised a hand to his cheek, which was still throbbing from where Lavendar had slapped it. "Lavendar, please. Just let me explain."

"You've done enough explaining for one night." There was a small snuffle from the door. "Just go away, Ron."

Ron gave a sigh of exasperation. "Fine!" He walked purposely down the corridor, glaring at the eyes he could see peeping out of keyholes. "Bloody women. No logic. Never listen. Just wish I could get inside one of their heads and find on if anything actually goes on there."

***

"Snape, have you seen it?" 

Professor Snape, as he did with everything, took his time looking up from his book and at great length met Professor Lupin's gaze. "Seen what, wolf boy?"

Lupin was far too distracted to bother with banter. "A fairy. About a foot in height, blue all over with black hair."

Snape gave a very wide, self-satisfied smirk. "Don't tell me you have actually managed to lose a fairy in a school full of imbecilic infants who know no better than to watch what they say? Oh, Lupin, I do believe you have surpassed yourself."

"It's not funny, Snape." The werewolf looked wildly around the staff room, hoping that the fairy would give itself away by some miracle.

"Indeed it isn't. Watching you getting into trouble for it, however, will be."

Lupin scowled at his colleague. "You couldn't just be a normal human being and help me look for it, could you?"

"You obviously haven't been listening closely enough to the students. I am not human. I am a horrible vampire-banshee-boggart hybrid designed to terrorise and torture innocent children." He looked up and attempted to pull a face that fitted this description.

Lupin rolled his eyes. "Fine, be useless." He rushed back out of the door to continue his search.

"Don't worry, I will be."

***

Somewhere between the dungeons and Gryffindor tower, a fairy fluttered in mid-air. She was turning summersaults in the air in front of a mirror, thinking how very pretty she looked.

Then her super-sensitive fey hearing picked up on two simultaneous teenage laments. She giggled and twitched her nose. Two sprinkles of silver glitter sped from her form in two separate directions, but on very similar purposes.

"Done!" 

***

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First proper chapter is on the way. Pleeeeeease review, because it makes fics worth writing!


	2. Chapter One

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Disclaimer: Anything you recognise from the Harry Potter-verse is the property of J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this. No faeries were harmed in the writing of this story!

Summary: Hermione and Ron discover their dilemma, and search for a solution.

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Chapter One – A Great Discovery

Hermione gave a large stretch as the alarm woke her. She rubbed her eyes free of sleep dust and reached out to stroke Crookshanks. When her hand just connected with the blankets, she frowned and opened her eyes to look for him. 

She saw no fat ginger cat. What she did see, however, was a rather large hand. This hand was connected to a rather burly looking arm covered in freckles and some downy ginger hair. What was really worrying was that this arm was somehow connected to _her_ shoulder. But not her usual shoulder – not a shoulder clad in white cotton or flannel pyjamas. This was a bare shoulder, leading to a bare, male torso, leading to…

"Oh my goodness," Hermione gasped. She also had a very male voice. "Oh, no, this isn't right at all…"

Ron smiled widely as he felt something soft and pleasant stroke against his cheek. He shifted slightly to better accommodate this sensual something, as it moved to stroke his throat. He reached to stroke back, and was surprised to feel a clawed paw bat his hand.

His eyes snapped open. "Ouch! What was that for?" The sentence trailed off as Ron came face-to-face with a large, grumpy looking ginger cat.

"Oh. Hello, Crookshanks. Did Hermione kick you out for the night again?" There are many who believe that cats can make facial expressions, and if these people are right then at this point Crookshanks raised an eyebrow. "Well, it's morning so if you want any breakfast I'd get back to Hermione's room."

Ron looked up and expected to see the inside canopy of his bed. What he saw instead was rather surprising. He saw a room painted powder blue, with cream curtains, an incredibly tidy desk and a large oak wardrobe.

"OK, this isn't my room." Ron leapt from the bed as though it had shocked him and stared at it. Looking at the room from this angle he recognised it a little better, but still stood glancing feverishly about him. He then caught sight of the full-length mirror, and made a double take.

He walked towards it slowly, reaching a hand forward to touch his reflection. "And that is _not_ my body!"

Ron stared in awe at the long, braided hair, the big green eyes, and the slender frame. It was a figure he recognised well, but it didn't belong in a mirror – not one in front of his eyes. "But…but…_how_?"

There was a sharp knock on the door. "No! Wait!" The door opened anyway and in walked his body, dressed in jeans and a Weasley family jumper.

"Ron, get dressed, I haven't got time or patience for arguments." Ron's body was marching around the room, finding clothes and throwing them at him.

"Wait…Hermione?"

"No time for questions either. Just sling those on."

Ron-in-Hermione's-body stood frowning for a moment, before springing into action. He pulled the jeans up hurriedly without looking down, then pulled the nightgown up over his head. This made him pause. "Hermione?"

"Yes, Ron, you have breasts, stop trying to pretend that you've never seen a pair before."

Ron gave a shrug that didn't quite look right in this form, and pulled a T-shirt on. "Right. Now what?"

Ron's own eyes looked him up and down, with a deep frown. "OK. You'll do. Just follow me."

S/he turned round and walked purposefully out of the door again. Ron gave another shrug and followed her. "Where are we going?"

Hermione sighed, waiting for Ron to catch up at the portrait hole. "That's another thing. Please don't talk unless you have to. It's too strange hearing my voice not coming from me. And to answer your question, we're going to see Dumbledore. He'll know what to do."

Ron nodded and followed, keeping his head down and hoping no one would notice that he was walking strangely due to missing vital parts. "What happened, then? I mean, I went to bed last night just like normal, then woke up in the wrong bed…"

"And the wrong body? I don't know. Believe me, if I did I'd be back where I belong by now. It seems to be just us, though. Everyone else in the dorm seemed to be in the right body and everything."

The pair drew level with the stone gargoyle. "Fizzing Whizzbies," said Hermione, and the gargoyle hopped to one side. They stepped through the archway and mounted the spiralling staircase. 

As they climbed higher and higher, they began to hear voices from the chamber above. There were three distinct, male voices in exaggerated conversation.

"It must be found, Remus. There are no two ways about it."

"I have been trying, Headmaster, but she is a water fey. She could have easily disappeared into a pipe or down a toilet."

"Perhaps it would be wise to employ the castle ghosts, Headmaster. It is about time they made themselves useful."

"I do believe you may be onto something, Severus."

"Why?" Whispered Ron rather loudly. "Why, of all the people in Dumbledore's office, when I happen to have accidentally slipped into a girl's body, does _Snape_ have to be there?"

Hermione smirked silently at the ground. "Just lucky, I suppose." Before Ron could make any further comment, she knocked briskly on the door.

There was a moment's silence from within, then Dumbledore's voice, "Enter."

Hermione pushed the door open and walked in, with Ron traipsing behind her. "Ah, Mr Weasley, Miss Granger."

"Sorry to interrupt, Headmaster, but we have something urgent that we need to talk to you about." Hermione glanced apologetically at Professor Lupin.

"Quite alright. I do believe you may have something to do with what we were discussing - if I am not mistaken, Miss Granger?"

Hermione smiled weakly, and glanced back at Ron. "We seem to have…well, that is…"

"Hermione's taken my body, and I don't know why, and I don't know how, but I do know I'd quite like to stop being a girl."

"Exquisitely put, Mr Weasley. I believe Professor Snape may have some input on this occasion."

Snape smirked and folded his arms. "On the contrary, Headmaster," he said. "I do not believe I have any potions for reversing fairy spells. Furthermore, I am under the opinion that people deserve exactly what they wish for."

"I didn't wish to be plonked into Hermione!" Exclaimed Ron.

"Neither of us did. At least not directly," Hermione added.

"What exactly _did_ you wish for, Hermione?"

"Last night, I…had a fight with a…friend. I wished I could understand what went on in a boy's head. This wasn't quite what I had in mind." Hermione looked at the ground, knowing that her cheeks were burning.

"Me too," Ron added. "That is, I wanted to know what made women go nuts. Didn't think anyone was actually taking notice."

"A wonderful thing about the fey. Very sensitive hearing." Snape looked rather too smug for Ron's liking.

"Very nosy, too. But then, I would think it is part of the job description," Dumbledore smiled good-naturedly. "Now then. If, as Professor Snape says, there is no potion for such a thing as this, then we must simply do it the difficult way. The fairy must be caught, and made to grant the wish that everything be as it was."

"But why don't we just wish from here? You said faeries were good listeners," Ron asked.

"Selective hearing," answered Professor Lupin. "They only really hear what they want to hear. If only one of you had wished, the fairy would have probably ignored you. But both of you together would have been too much to resist."

"And I can see why." Professor Snape was wearing his smug face again. To Ron, this was a face that said 'I have my dangly bits and you don't'. To Hermione, it said 'I know exactly what the personal hygiene of a sixteen year old boy is, and you have to put up with it'. Both found it particularly annoying.

"So what do we do until the fairy's caught?" Ron asked.

"Firstly, I think it best that no one know that you have switched. Knowledge that there is a loose fairy in the school would cause havoc, and a lot of danger. Wishes have a nasty habit of backfiring, as you have both discovered. Any further wish disasters will be dealt with as and when they happen. Wards have been placed around the school building, so it cannot escape. We shall simply have to wait until it is found. Teachers will be informed of your switch, so you needn't worry too much about switched study programmes. Other than that, I do not think there is much we can do, but wait."

Dumbledore's speech ended on a very final note. Ron and Hermione looked at each other, before chorusing "Thank you, Headmaster," and exiting through the large oak doors.

As soon as the doors had once again closed behind them, they both turned to scowl at each other.

"This is all your fault!"

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You've read – Now review, damnit! Reviews = inspiration = More chapters = a story I might actually finish in one go!


	3. Chapter Two

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Disclaimer: They're not mine, they belong to J.K. Rowling. This disclaimer is short, because I have to go to Psychology!

Summary: Myrtle makes a friend, and Ron makes a discovery.

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Chapter Two – The Making of Friends

Moaning Myrtle was sat on top of a cubicle, grinning with delight. This was the first time in a long while that anyone had come to visit her – and this was such a special visitor. A child with blue skin was sat in one of the sinks, staring at herself in the mirror. The thing that made this child special (apart from the obvious skin difference) was that she had a pair of fluttery butterfly wings.

The strange girl had not yet noticed Myrtle. It was sometimes very convenient to be practically invisible from everyone.

"You're not invisible, you know," Myrtle had a start as she found the child's reflection looking directly at her. "Why do you think you are?"

Myrtle floated slowly down from her place on top of the cubicle. "Because no one ever wants to notice me," she replied. "No one cares about moping, moaning Myrtle. They all find it perfectly simple to forget about me."

"Is that the way you like it?" The child asked.

"Of course not. Don't be stupid!"

"Then why do you just let them ignore you?"

Myrtle sniffed, and looked away from the mirror. "There's nothing _I_ could do to stop them. Let them be beastly if they want."

The child turned slowly, fixing Myrtle with deep sapphire eyes. "What do _you_ want?"

Myrtle was fixed by the eyes, and found herself compelled to answer, "I-I just…I wish-"

"Myrtle!"

Myrtle started as she heard her name called from outside. She turned towards the door. "That's the headmaster," she said. "You'd better-" but when she turned back to the mirror, the child was gone. "Curiouser and curiouser."

The door opened with a loud creak. Myrtle took up the child's place in the sink, and sat with her legs crossed. Professor Dumbledore stepped into the room, today wearing a deep indigo robe. He smiled amiably. "Myrtle. So good to see you again."

"I haven't been visited by you for a long time, Professor."

"No, Myrtle, you haven't. But today's, I am afraid, is not a social visit. I require your assistance in something that has been misplaced."

"Not another diary, Professor?"

"No, Myrtle. More of an animal. A small water fairy, all blue with butterfly wings. Has she visited your bathroom yet?" Professor Dumbledore looked down at Myrtle over his half-moon spectacles.

Myrtle looked thoughtful for a moment, then shook her head firmly. "No, Professor. No one comes to visit me."

"Are you sure, Myrtle?"

"Positive." Myrtle looked straight into Dumbledore's eyes. She had heard that was a way to seem very honest.

"Well, if you do, would you kindly alert one of the faculty?" Professor Dumbledore smiled benignly.

"Yes, Headmaster."

"Good girl. I shall come and visit you again when all this is over."

Myrtle nodded, but remained silent. She wanted the man to go away so she could talk to her new friend again. The headmaster nodded, and turned to leave.

He paused at the door. "Just one more thing, Myrtle. She may try and talk to you. Ask you questions, that sort of thing. On no account should you wish for anything. Is that clear?"

Myrtle caught a glimpse of the child out of the corner of her eye. She was hiding in one of the cubicles. She was making funny faces, and Myrtle gave her a small smile. "Yes, headmaster."

Myrtle didn't watch the old Professor leave. She had already floated over to her new friend.

***

Ron and Hermione sat awkwardly in the head girl's room drinking glasses of pumpkin juice. Hermione sat cross-legged on the bed, while Ron was perched on the desk chair by the window. "So…" Said Ron.

"So," said Hermione. "I suppose we have to start somewhere. Anything to declare?"

Ron shrugged. "Nothing you don't already know. I'm going out with Lavendar, although we had a fight last night and I don't know what's going on with that, and I'm beater for the Quidditch team."

Hermione looked worried. "I won't have to fly, will I?"

"Not until Saturday. We had a practice yesterday. It's really not the hard, y'know."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "That's what you think. Anything else?"

"Don't think so. 'Cept that I'm taking Higher Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration and Astronomy, but I think you already knew that," Hermione nodded. "What about you? Any deep dark secrets you've been keeping?"

Hermione spluttered and started choking on her pumpkin juice. "Deep dark secrets? No, no. Nothing like that. Just…some meetings sometimes with the headmaster – prefect duties, that kind of thing. And I'm taking Higher Potions, Transfiguration, Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"And that's it?"

Hermione stared down into her pumpkin juice. "Of course that's it. What more would there be?"

"I just wondered. Y'know, you've been wandering off more and more lately. Me and Harry kind of thought that maybe you'd got a boyfriend or something."

Hermione gave a small false laugh and rolled her eyes. "Honestly, is that all you two ever think about? I just have Potions experiments to check – things like that."

Ron made a face. "I suppose I'll have to start going to Potions lessons again."

"Don't worry. He's a lot less…confrontational when he knows that you're there because you want to be, and not because the course is compulsory." Hermione had long since grown used to Snape's sharp wit and off-hand comments.

"But I _don't_ want to be there. He's going to pick up on that straight away." Ron groaned and made a face.

"Well, you'll just have to make do. I like Potions, and I'm not giving it up just because you have a grudge against my Professor," Hermione gave a wry smiles. "Besides, you never know. You might enjoy it."

Ron gave a derisive snort. "That's never going to happen."

"Well, I had better leave you to get acquainted with my room," she made a face. "And I'd better get used to sleeping with a load of boys with little knowledge in personal hygiene."

Ron nodded. "See you later, 'Mione."

The tall boy walked out of the room, with a slightly effeminate swing to his hips. Ron smiled, then realised what he was smiling at and thought it wasn't funny at all. That would be something he would have to talk to her about later.

Ron kicked off his shoes and crossed the room. He lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling, listening to the birds outside his window. He let his eyes slowly drift shut and contemplated his predicament. He was in a situation where he was in the dog house with his girlfriend, but couldn't sort it out, because he was trapped in the body of one of his best friends – who just happened to be a girl. Furthermore, he had to put up with lessons with Snape and Draco Malfoy, and could no longer play Quidditch. He sighed heavily. _It's all your own fault_, a voice inside told him. He told the voice to shut up, very firmly.

Ron was startled as a thick sheaf of paper was droped on his face. He opened his eyes and sat up, wondering if Hermione had come back. But there was no one there.

The piece of paper turned out to be an envelope. He frowned, and turned towards the window, where he saw a dark coloured owl flying off into the distance. He frowned, trying to remember where he had seen that owl before.

Ron looked at the envelope. On its front, in spidery, slanted writing, 'Hermione Granger' was written. Ron held it in his hands for some moments, wondering if he should open it or not. It was addressed to Hermione, and was hand written so it was probably personal. On the other hand, _he_ was no Hermione and anything it said now applied to him.

In the end, curiosity won over, and he opened the envelope. Inside was a brief note, written in the same hand-writing:

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H,

Am sorry for last night. Will be in the usual room tonight working on my 'potions project'. Would be honoured if you would meet me. See you tonight?

D.

"I knew it!" Ron cried, delighted that he and Harry had been right. Then he paused. A familiar dark owl, potions projects, a letter signed 'D'. He crumpled the paper in his hand as enlightenment struck. "Oh, no. _Anything_ but that!"

***

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Reviews!!!!! I want more! More, I tell you!


	4. Chapter Three

_**Disclaimer**: None of 'em are mine, unfortunately. All the stuff you recognise from HP is the property of J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this, I just like mucking about with the characters. Furthermore, the ideas that souls grate is taken from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which means it belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc. The plot, however, is mine so please e-mail if you want to archive._   
_**Author's Notes**: This seems to descend further and further into idiocy, so I feel a need to apologise. This is written purely to keep me from being bored and to amuse myself. I take no responsibility for out-of-character-ness. If you want to read something good, I suggest you try Trials and Tribulations (plug, plug!) Oh, and another thing. This is, and will continue to be, Hermione/Draco and Ron/Lavendar. Ron and Hermione will not be getting together! _

**Chapter Three – A Date with a Dragon**

Severus Snape had always been an active person. Contrary to popular belief, he had not spent his adolescence in a dark dreary corner with his over-sized nose in a book. On the contrary, he had been an active young man. He was an academic, yes, but he was also Keeper on the Slytherin Quidditch team and had chosen subjects that fit in with his energy levels. He had loved Potions because there were always heavy cauldrons to move around and scrub. All right, it wasn't a daily marathon, but it kept him occupied. 

The reason for this need to burn energy had always been the same. Severus Snape was a sufferer of insomnia. Activity during the day was always a futile attempt at exhausting himself sufficiently for sleep. This, however, did not often work. His mind was too active whenever he tried to sleep, and would not calm down or relax. Whenever the Potions Master had this problem he found that a brisk walk around the school would often bore his mind into submission. 

It was on such a night that the Head of Slytherin found himself pacing through the labyrinth-like corridors and passages of the dungeons. And on it was on this particular walk that said Head of Slytherin came across something interesting. 

"Mr Malfoy," Snape said, savouring the words, as he was not allowed to reprimand this particular brat nearly as often as he would like. "I trust you have an explanation for being caught out of the Slytherin common room?" 

Draco had been striding purposefully towards the Potions rooms. He had frozen quite comically in mid-stride, and now turned slowly to face his head of house. He was dressed all in black, and his pale hair contrasted drastically. He dug his hands into his pockets and made direct eye contact with the taller man. "Of course, sir," he said. "I'm making a Confucious potion as part of my coursework presentation. I'm sure I don't need to tell you that it needs stirring every six hours. I wanted to check it now, so I'd have a full six hours sleep to look forward to." 

"I see. So why did you not ask me for a pass?" Snape asked, folding his arms in front of him. 

Draco's eyes fell to the floor. "I wasn't actually meant to check it. My partner was, but Granger kept moaning that she'd have to walk all the way from Gryffindor tower. I gave in and said I'd check it." 

Snape recalled that he had shooed away a very pestering Miss Granger yesterday and nodded in acknowledgement. "How very chivalrous of you, Mr Malfoy. I would suggest, however, that in future you get Miss Granger to do her own dirty work. I do not wish to catch you on a night time wander again," he smirked and raised an eyebrow. "People might talk." 

Draco nodded, still solemn and quite moody at being caught. Snape nodded once more and swept past Draco, down the passage. 

The blonde watched him leave, waiting. As soon as his teacher was out of sight, Draco dug his hands in the pockets of his Calvin Klein hoodie and trudged around one corner, then another, before pushing open the potions room door. 

His pale blue eyes scanned the room, looking for the give-away shimmers of an invisibility cloak. "Hermione?" He whispered. "It's me. Come out." 

He noticed a movement to his right and span, watching as the familiar figure appeared, literally, as if from nowhere. Her hair was down and her jeans and sweater were strangely casual. He frowned slightly. "Hello there." 

Hermione's mouth twisted into an awkward smile. "Um…hi." 

Draco smiled back, genuinely, and walked towards her. He slipped his arms round her waist and kissed her forehead gently. Her body stiffened visibly, and he frowned again. He pulled back slightly, resting his hands on her hips, and studied her face. Something in her eyes was grating. "Are you still angry with me?" 

She had a strangely relieved look in her eyes. "Yes! Yes, I-I am!" She was trying to look angry and relieved at the same time. This couldn't be a good thing. "And I don't know why I'm even here, I'm so angry with you." 

Draco took a step back. "I don't understand what I did that was that bad," Draco ran a hand through his hair, pushing the longer strands back from his eyes. "Maybe I was a bit too…pushy, but I honestly thought we were on the same wave length." 

Now her face was definitely angry. "_Pushy_? You were _pushy_ with Her – with me?" 

"I'm sorry. I really did think…" he sighed. "OK, maybe I didn't think. But I am sorry, and it won't happen again." He smiled and stepped forward, taking her smaller hands in his. "Forgive me?" Draco smiled charmingly, and leaned forward for a kiss. 

All he met was air, as Hermione pulled away from him as though she had been burned. "I…I can't…" She picked up the invisibility cloak and bolted from the room. 

Draco sighed again and glared at the door. He shook his head, brushing his hair back from his eyes again, and rubbed his temples. He walked through to the lab in search of his potion. "When in doubt, stir," he told himself. 

*** 

When Ron got back up to the headgirl's quarters his head was whirling. This was too much. It was all too much. Tomorrow he would have a serious talk with Hermione, and find a way to get out of this. They would go to the headmaster and beg to be allowed to tell at least some people. 

He looked at himself – or should that be, 'herself'? – in the mirror. Hermione's body's hair was all big and frizzy, like it had been when he had first met her. There were large dark circles under her eyes. The face in the mirror frowned. Why had he not noticed that before? He pulled the large sweater over his head and dropped it on the floor, continuing to observe his new body. He turned to look at himself in profile, and raised his eyebrows. No wonder Draco Malfoy had been sniffing around. Hermione flourished into quite a voluptuous young woman. He frowned. Something else he hadn't noticed. 

Ron moved away from the mirror and picked up the nightgown folded on the end of the bed. He raised a sceptical eyebrow at it. "Well, Ronny old boy. It's now or never." He shut his eyes tight and pulled the shirt over his head. He did the same with his bra, not yet wishing to grapple with hooks and catches. 

He opened one eye a crack to find the nightie, but stopped in mid-reach. He looked down at the two mounds of flesh in front of him, tipped with rose bud nipples. He watched as they hardened in the cool air, and felt a tingle run through his body. The hand that had been reaching for the nightgown changed direction, and gradually it moved towards his breasts. 

Before they made contact, Ron stopped and blinked. "Eurgh!" He made a face and grabbed the nightie, dragging it over his head. "Merlin, you pervert! You were just about to feel up your best friend!" Ron shivered, disgusted with himself. "Nox," he said, before unbuttoning the flies on his jeans and pushing them down his hips. He had noticed earlier in the day, with some surprise, that Hermione went 'commando'. And he thought it was just boys that did that! 

Dragging back the covers, he fell into bed and snuggled down. He carefully buried one hand under the pillow, and had the other as far away from his body as possible. He fell asleep repeating a mental mantra: '_I will not violate my friend, I will not violate my friend_…' 

*** 

Draco slipped silently into the seventh year boy's dormitory. He was still frowning and trying to think what on earth had been wrong with Hermione. She had never been angry with him for more than a day – and especially not when he sank low enough to apologise. He pulled off his T-shirt and started to undo his flies. 

_There was something in her eyes – something not right._

The jeans slid down his legs and he kicked them off. He looked down at himself and made a face at the silver chain he was wearing. It was made of a series of tiny silver snakes, which interlocked. The only thing was that every so often one of them would have a wiggle, and it was very uncomfortable. His father had bought it for him, and of course it was a designer make. The problem was, it just wasn't him. 

He blinked, and paused. Wasn't him. 

_It wasn't her!_

He quickly grabbed his wand out of the jeans he had carelessly left on the floor. "Lumos!" He whispered. The wand emitted a dull glow from its tip. Draco used this to search through the books stacked on his bedside table. He was sure he'd noticed something in 'Be Yourself – A Guide to Body-Swaps' about grating souls. He found the book and took it with him as he scrambled under the bedclothes and pulled the curtains closed around the bed, so he could turn up the wand enough to read. 

He opened the book to the relevant chapter and, after a few minutes' search, he found what he had been looking for. 

_'When a person is forced into a body that is not theirs, it creates problems with the spirit. A spirit, or soul, is designed to fit a particular body. When a spirit is forced into the wrong body, it can create what is termed 'grating'. This is because the spirit is often forced into a shape it is not made to fit, and so it 'grates' on the body. Tell-tail signs of this can often be seen in the eyes, as these are the windows to the soul.'_

Draco shut the book with a snap and placed it back on his bedside table. He shimmied down in the bed and turned onto his side, all the time making a mental plan. Tomorrow he would get to Hermione, or whatever currently inhabited her body, and find out what in Merlin's name was going on. 

*** 

_ AN: If you were entertained by my little story, please review…NOW!_   
  



	5. Chapter Four

_Disclaimer: None of the characters or other stuff from teh HP-verse in this fic are mine. They are all the property of J.K. Rowling and her flurry of publishers._   
_Author's Notes: I'm having immense fun with this, whether everyone is OOC or not! Dedicated to dave for helping me get my muse back. Also to be archived at my website. If you want it for whatever archive, please just ask. Please review, because reviews make me happy and happiness makes me write much better stuff than this!_

**Chapter Four - Lovers' Tiffs**

Ron Weasley was having a very pleasant dream. Lavender was apologising profusely for being such an untrusting idiot and purposely taking his words the wrong way. Now he had grudgingly accepted her apology, and she was rewarding his forgiveness in a very pleasurable fashion. He groaned softly as her hot, wet kisses slid along his cheek. 

"Miaow!" 

Ron's eyes snapped open, only to squint against the bright sunshine that shone through the window. "Crookshanks? Bog off, you stupid cat!" He sat up, dislodging the fat ginger cat from his chest. He raised a hand to his head and groaned less happily when it connected with more hair than he was used to. 

"Right. Shower, toilet, hair brush." He took a moment to think over this last statement as he clambered out of bed. "Possibly not in that order." 

*** 

As Ron walked down towards the Great Hall he knew he was late. He also didn't particularly care. After having to wash and pee with an anatomy that was not his own, while trying not to look or touch any part of himself more than was absolutely necessary, being a bit late for breakfast didn't seem very important. As for brushing the near untamable hair, all Ron could say was that it had given him a new respect for his brother, Bill. 

Ron was just nearing the entrance hall, when he felt someone grab his arm. He turned abruptly, not really in the mood to deal with whining first years who needed the Head Girl's assistance. 

"Granger. A word, if you please." 

Ron's gaze slid up to Draco's cold, grey eyes. He was very disappointed to say that Malfoy was now taller than him. Still, he drew himself up to Hermione's full height and yanked his arm out of Malfoy's grip. "I have nothing to say to you." 

Malfoy rolled his eyes obnoxiously. "I promise to take no more than two minutes of the Head Girl's precious time." 

Ron sighed. He couldn't be bothered to argue any further, and so nodded his ascent and allowed Draco to lead the way to a quiet side corridor. 

"Now then," Malfoy said silkily. He turned sharply and, moving too quickly for Ron to stop him, found himself pushed against the wall with his arms pinned to either side of his body. Malfoy's snooty, turned up nose was inches from his own and his eyes were glittering with malice. "Who are you?" 

Ron wriggled and thrashed, trying to loosen Malfoy's grip, but found that Hermione was not nearly as strong as her lover. "I'm Hermione, you great idiot! Gerroff me!" 

"Ha!" Malfoy crowed triumphantly. "Hermione would not say 'gerroff', because _she_ has a brain in her head." He moved slightly closer and tightened his grip on Ron's arms. He could almost feel the skin blackening to angry bruises beneath his robes. "Now tell me who you are, or I'll-" 

"Draco, get _off_ of him!" 

Both boys turned their heads quickly, to see Ron's body standing at the entrance of the corridor and walking briskly towards them. Draco narrowed his eyes. "Piss off, Weasley." 

Ron's body had reached the pair and now pulled at Draco's arm. "No, you don't understand. That's not Hermione." 

Ron sighed. "If you'd just try a bit harder, you'll find I'm stronger than you are." 

Hermione frowned at him, but yanked at Draco's arm and felt it give. She took a moment to smile at the novelty, then turned grave again. "Draco...it's...I..." She looked desperately at Ron, floundering. 

"Don't let me stop you. 'Cos if he tries to snog me one more time, I'll puke down his bloody throat!" 

"Very useful. Thanks Ron." Hermione sighed and ran her fingers through her short hair. 

"Wait...You called her Ron." He turned to Ron, frowning. "And earlier, you called him 'her'." 

He looked back at Hermione, in Ron's body. She smiled back at him, apologetically. "We had a bit of an accident, Draco." 

The real Ron snorted derisively. "'A bit of an accident'? _That's_ the under-statement of the year." He turned to face the blonde boy, whose gaze flicked sporadically between the pair. "I'm Ron, _that's_ Hermione, we can't change back and you can't tell anyone or Professor Dumbledore will nail your arse to the door frame." Ron huffed and brushed down Hermione's robes, before noticing that brushing the breasts that now adorned his chest had a very odd effect on his skin sensitivity. He blushed lightly and cleared his throat. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to leave you two lovebirds to it. I'm bloody starving and I've missed half of breakfast already." 

Ron turned on his heel and strode down the corridor with an un-knowing wiggle of his hips. "And, Malfoy," he called over his shoulder. "If you touch my body with _any_ part of yours, I will know about it and I will castrate you. Understood?" 

Draco just smirked and waited for Ron to leave before muttering, "_Someone's_ got PMT!" 

Hermione frowned and hit Draco's arm lightly. "This is no laughing matter." 

Draco's smile fell as he looked into his girl/boyfriend's eyes. Eyes that were supposed to be hazel, but were blue. And several inches higher than they usually were. "So what do we do now?" he asked quietly. 

Hermione sighed. "For now, we pretend everything's perfectly normal. Even more normal than usual, seeing as you won't be sneaking off to find me anymore." 

"Did Weasley tell you I apologised for that?" 

"He didn't." 

"Well, I did. I'm sorry." 

Hermione nodded. "Apology accepted. Seeing as you won't be getting any for the foreseeable future, anyway, you may consider that your punishment." She smiled wryly. "We should go to breakfast." 

She leaned forward to kiss Draco's cheek, and chuckled as he pulled away. "What are you scared of? Weasley germs?" 

"That's _exactly_ what I'm scared of!" He offered Hermione a brief smile. "You go on ahead. Don't want teachers to suspect we've been-" 

"Snogging in the corridors?" Hermione suggested. 

"Fighting is what I was _going_ to say, but I don't think we'd want them to think that, either." Draco shuddered delicately. 

Hermione smiled. "See you soon, Draco." 

Draco just nodded and sighed as he watched the lanky redhead slouch off. He wondered to himself how such a stupid looking body could house such an bright mind without anyone else noticing. 

*** 

Ron and Hermione sat next to each other during breakfast, carefully avoiding conversation with other people. Both were unsure how easy it would be to pretend to be the other, so they passed the meal in near total silence. Harry was engaged in a vigorous argument with Ginny about when Quidditch practice should begin, with occasional comments being chipped in from Neville, Dean and Seamus. Hermione could see there were times when Ron was desperate to join the conversation, but a brief glare from Hermione forced him back to his porridge. 

Eventually, Hermione broke the silence by nudging Ron in the ribs and whispering, "Why does Lavender keep scowling at me?" 

She watched as Ron surreptitiously straightened his back and raised his eyes to look over Hermione's shoulder. He caught Lavender scowling at his friend, before turning to an animated, whispered conversation with Parvati. "Ah," he said. "That _could_ be my fault." He returned to his position, still whispering. "Before all this mess, I made her quite angry. And since you haven't apologised yet, you're really in the dog house." 

Hermione frowned, picking at her toast. "What did you do?" 

"I dared to talk to another girl." 

Hermione blinked. "And?" 

"That's it. Oh, wait. Apparently, I also gave her '_a look_'." 

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "And who is this girl you've been giving looks to?" 

"Actually, it's you," he replied. "But I didn't give you a look. I just got you to help me with my Potions homework." 

Hermione sighed loudly. "Good grief, is that all? I don't see what you have to apologise for." 

"Neither do I, but that's the way it goes." 

"Well, it's ridiculous. I won't do it." She crossed her arms across her chest, looking indignant. 

"I thought it was a girl rule that it's always the boy's fault." Ron had to bite his lip to keep the laughter from rising at the look on Hermione's face at being caught thinking sexist thoughts, and couldn't resist adding, "I bet it's always Malfoy that apologises to you." 

"Fine," she said, sighing heavily. "For the sake of this cover-up, I will apologise. Although I don't understand why we can't tell her. I mean, we told Draco." 

"For a smart girl, you can be incredibly obtuse sometimes. Malfoy may be a git, but he doesn't want anyone to know about the two of you and whatever nasty little things you get up to." Ron ignored Hermione's indignant 'Oi!' "Lavender, on the other hand, and despite her many fine qualities, is a gossip and if we told her it would be half way around the school by second lesson." Ron smiled lecherously. "Also the thought of you and Lavender snogging is much nicer than the reality of the smarmy Malfoy git sticking his slobbery tongue in my mouth." 

Hermione lowered her eyes. "For the record, Draco's tongue is not slobbery. It's very talented." 

"Oh, yuck! Too much!" 

Hermione smirked at him, before rising from the table and walking towards Ron's estranged girlfriend. 

*** 

_Please review! Please? Next chapter I want to write some more Snape/Lupin interraction. Still haven't decided whether they're coupley or not. Any suggestions? Also some more from the fairy, and Hermione complaining about how useless women are!_


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